


vivid imagination

by nasa



Category: Avengers (Comics), Avengers Assemble (Cartoon), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Fluff, Get Together, M/M, Masturbation, wow that's actual a tag rip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-15 07:13:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15407757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nasa/pseuds/nasa
Summary: Of course it’s not ideal: to fantasize about his best friend. To have his default fantasy be Steve, naked, braced above him; kissing his way down Tony’s neck and chest; sucking hickies into his lower belly while he opens Tony up so he can take him with heaving, fast thrusts that leave Tony gasping, coming too soon, while Steve shudders and groans against him.Tony did say he has a vivid imagination.





	vivid imagination

**Author's Note:**

> A million thanks to both superhusbandswithasideoffamily and underoosstark for the beta!!

It’s not like he does it often.

Hell, he  _ barely  _ does it. He doesn’t have the time. His schedule is so crammed that when the desire bubbles up, more often than not, he shoves it right back down. He’s busy. He’s got things to build and a company to run and a world to help save.

And most of the time, when the want bleeds into a need, Tony finds a woman to hook up with. Never sex workers, no matter what the tabloids say. They’re perfectly nice people, but there’s no reason to risk scandal when Tony can walk into any bar and walk out five minutes later with three busty blondes hanging off his arm.

So, yeah, he doesn’t do it often. But sometimes, instead of just passing out after a marathon workshop session, he’ll get ready for bed. And occasionally, if he hasn’t scratched that itch in a few days or a few weeks, then getting ready for bed is followed by rubbing one out. He’s not embarrassed of it - he’s far too shameless for that.  


Besides, the walls of the mansion are thick. Nobody knows what he’s doing or thinking when he’s by himself. Maybe that’s why he lets his imagination run so wild.

Because that’s the thing: he has a _very_ vivid imagination. Probably a consequence of his intellect, or maybe just because it’s his job to imagine things and then create them. Whatever the reason, he only has to close his eyes to feel as though he’s somewhere else entirely. Getting blown in a club by a hot redhead. Fucking a supermodel by the pool in Maui. Or spread out on this very bed, Steve’s warm, sweaty body pressed against him.

Of course it’s not ideal: to fantasize about his best friend. To have his default fantasy be Steve, naked, braced above him; kissing his way down Tony’s neck and chest; sucking hickies into his lower belly while he opens Tony up so he can take him with heaving, fast thrusts that leave Tony gasping, coming too soon, while Steve shudders and groans against him.  


Tony did say he has a vivid imagination.

So on this particular day, when he climbs out of the shower with a low heat curling in his belly and enough energy to see it through, he defaults to that scenario. He lays back on the bed and closes his eyes, pictures it.  


Steve is damp, having just gotten out of the shower. So has Tony. He’s sprawled across the bed, towel falling open over his hips. Steve grins at him and tosses his own towel to the floor.  _ Waiting for something?  _ he asks, voice half laughter.

_ What does it look like?  _ Tony replies. Steve doesn’t waste any more time, crossing the distance between them in a few long strides so he can straddle Tony’s hips. He’s happy; his fingers are stroking slow circles on Tony’s belly, and his kisses are soft as they trail across Tony’s collarbones, down his chest. He reaches Tony’s nipple, and sucks, licking a line around it. Tony groans, bucking up into his own touch.  _ God,  _ he can see it so clearly. He lays one hand across his own stomach, stroking, trying to imagine his hand is larger, less callused and warmer.

“Steve,” he groans, unable to stop himself. In his mind, Steve has abandoned Tony’s neck, now, and has rolled Tony over so he’s flat against the mattress. Steve is kissing a line down his back, his hands still stroking tantalizingly, and Tony bucks against the covers, trying to get some sort of friction.

There’s a strange clicking sound after Tony speaks, followed by a faint hum like static, but Tony brushes the thought away. Whatever it is, it can’t be too important; JARVIS would interrupt him if it was.

_ Focus. Steve.  _ Steve’s fingers on the inside of Tony’s thighs, stroking. “Yes, Steve, more,” he moans, and he swears he can almost hear an answering whine, a quickening of breath - Steve’s stretching him now, three fingers inside of him, working almost too fast, but in the fantasy, it doesn’t hurt. Tony whimpers and imagines Steve pressing into him, the hot length of him, thick and long and so much that Tony has to breathe through it for a second before Steve can start moving. The fantasy has shifted from easy to eager and in it now Steve is setting a punishing pace as he presses Tony down into the mattress.

“Steve,” Tony gasps, “Yes, Steve,  _ please -“  _ Then he comes all over himself with a final shudder.

For a long moment, Tony just lays there, panting, blinking away the stars in his eyes. God, that was fantastic. Nothing on the level of actual sex with Steve, Tony’s sure, but since that’s never going to be a possibility -

A knock at Tony’s door startles him up. “One minute!” he calls, wiping himself off quickly with a tissue before tossing on his robe. He glances around, and deems the room presentable enough, before pulling open the door.

A flushed Steve stares back at him. He’s got milk splashed over the front of his pajamas; his hands are shaking just slightly.

“I think you called me on the intercom when you didn’t mean to,” Steve says. For a moment, Tony doesn’t know what he’s talking about and then he realizes -  _ Steve, yes, Steve, please,  _ Jesus, he was moaning like a goddamn teenager in love, what the hell is Steve going to think of him now?

“Oh, god,” he manages. His face is red, flushed with mortification, the likes of which he hasn’t felt in years. “Steve, I am  _ so  _ sorry -“

“Did you mean it?” Steve interrupts. He bites his lip, shakes his head. “I mean - was that just a quick fantasy or are you really - into me, like that?”

“Why?” Tony asks, almost warily. “Are you -“

“I’ve been wanting to ask you out on a date for months,” Steve admits.

Tony blinks. He can’t believe this is his life. Is this just another part of his fantasy? “I’ve been wanting to ask you out, too.”

“Great!” Steve beams. “That’s - that’s great. You free tomorrow night?”

Tony doubts so, but he doesn’t really care. “Of course,” he says. “Seven pm? I’ll book a place?”

“It’s a date,” Steve declares. He’s got a stupid, wide puppy dog smile on, like he couldn’t stop grinning if he tried. “In the meantime, um, if you need a hand -“ He gestures vaguely to the room behind Tony, and Tony feels a grin creeping up onto his own face.

“Oh, yeah,” he purrs. “That’d be perfect.”

Steve laughs as Tony tugs him through the door.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me at nasafic.tumblr.com


End file.
